Sir Claude Champion de Crespigny, Bart. 



was nothing for it but to sally forth and lay violent hands on 

 a green goose from a flock belonging to his neighbour, Dan 

 Moriarty, with the result that the foolish bird in question was 

 at that moment being prepared for their delectation in front of 

 the kitchen fire. 



" The goose certainly was a bit tough," remarked his guest 

 with a chuckle, as he recalled this little episode of his riding 

 days for our benefit the other day, "but," he added, "the 

 stuffing was all right and so was the apple sauce ; and as in 

 addition we were both infernally hungry, the poor old Limb 

 and yours truly managed to do ourselves pretty well after all." 



SIR CLAUDE CHAMPION DE CRESPIGNY, 



BART. 



A FIGHTING family from time immemorial, it is their cherished 

 boast, and no vain-glorious one either, that the de Crespigny 

 has yet to be found capable of either spelling or understanding 

 the meaning of the word Defeat, and we think, nay, we are 

 sure, that it will be generally admitted that any one of its 

 branches more profoundly ignorant in this respect than the 

 present holder of the baronetcy couldn't ever be found. 



As for the elderly sportsman who, equipped with scythe 

 and hour-glass, backs Time on all occasions with such marked 

 success, he has long now ceased to lay against Sir Claude de 

 Crespigny, who, though born as long ago as 1847, and con- 

 sequently rising sixty-three, as the horse dealers say, thinks 

 no more of riding a horse — probably several — in a gallop in 

 the morning, and winning a steeplechase or two in the after- 

 noon, than would a youngster of twenty — perhaps not so much. 



267 



